


Alone

by chemicalburnfromthespiralperm



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Sampala - Freeform, Season/Series 08, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 10:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalburnfromthespiralperm/pseuds/chemicalburnfromthespiralperm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What does it feel like, knowing everything and everyone you’ve ever loved is dead?  Knowing that no matter how much you give, someone always finds something else to take away?  Haven’t you given enough?  Hasn’t everyone taken enough?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone

She’s there, broken and battered like you’ve seen her so many times before. The windows are busted, glass sprinkled everywhere like the pieces of your heart. You don’t know what else to do, so you get in the passenger seat like Dean’s going to walk out of that building at any second, climb into the driver’s seat while bitching about how the windows of his baby are broken again, but you’ve been sitting here for two hours how, crying, and Dean still hasn’t walked out, so with every part of yourself battling against you, you slide into the driver’s seat, plug the key into the ignition, and you drive.

She carries you across the country, thanking you with the gentle purr of her engine, until she can’t carry you anymore. You have to stop sometimes. You’re eyes are dry and cracking, your insides feel like fire, feels like there’s liquid drain-o pumping through your veins and it fucking hurts, hurts like nothing you’ve ever felt, except it hurts like everything you’ve ever felt. Losing Dean always feels like this but sometimes you forget. You shouldn’t have to remember what losing him feels like.

There’s a motel about two miles back and a gas station about a mile from there, so you leave the Impala on empty on the side of the road. Takes you an hour to get the gas and come back, and luckily she’s still there. Don’t really know what you’d have done if she wasn’t.

You drive her to the motel and for three months you lie in that bed, only leaving when the hunger pains are too violent inside you that you _have_ to eat, otherwise, if you could, you’d die there. The scruff isn't scruff anymore so much as it is a beard, long and scratch against your face. What's the point of shaving? What's the point of doing anything other than lying here on this bed, rotting? Dean is gone, Cas is gone, Bobby is gone, Jess is gone, mom and dad are gone. You’re alone.

You’re well and truly on your own now, Sam. What does it feel like, knowing everything and everyone you’ve ever loved is dead? Knowing that no matter how much you give, someone always finds something else to take away? Haven’t you given enough? Hasn’t everyone taken enough?

Haven’t you suffered _enough_?

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Cry of the Prodigal Son](https://archiveofourown.org/works/838240) by [chemicalburnfromthespiralperm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalburnfromthespiralperm/pseuds/chemicalburnfromthespiralperm)




End file.
